


Haunted Rails

by hummerhouse



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Danger, Drama, Gen, Ghosts, Horror, One Shot, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.Word Count: 2,336 one shot 2k3Summary: A simple trip out of town and a seemingly easy detour turns into a deadly situation with ghostly implications.Rated: G~~ Written as part of the Show Your Love event for How_do_you_do_fellow_kids, a gifted friend who I understand has a penchant for horror. My mother had an experience similar to this, only hers happened on a bridge.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 48





	Haunted Rails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [H0w_d0_y0u_d0_fell0w_kids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/H0w_d0_y0u_d0_fell0w_kids/gifts).



“You’re lost.”

Donatello gave his younger brother an exasperated look. “I’m not lost, Mikey. You’ve said that seven times already, I’d really like it if you’d stop.”

“I’ll stop when you aren’t lost anymore,” Michelangelo told him.

“We made it to the comic store, at your insistence may I remind you, so we’ll make it home,” Don said. “This trip out of the city wouldn’t have been necessary if you could just have waited for our local store to sell that issue.”

“Wait? Are you kidding?” Mikey asked, managing to sound as though his sensibilities had been assaulted. “The online forums are already boiling over with spoilers. I don’t want to be the last person to know what happened to Madam Triage.”

“Why don’t you just avoid the online forums?” Don asked. “Or is that too sensible?”

They hit a nasty pothole that jolted the van and its occupants. Clutching the dashboard, Mikey looked back over his shoulder, “You okay, Sensei?”

“I am fine, Michelangelo,” Master Splinter said. “The seat belt is working in accordance with its specifications.”

“I still think were lost,” Mikey complained. “Why did we have to take this detour? Why couldn’t we have followed all the other cars?”

Don rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Mikey, that crash blocked the entire highway. We would have had to drive at about ten miles an hour past rows of highway patrol officers to take the same detour as the other cars. You could always duck, but I can’t and they’d see me. That’s why we got off early. I’ve already explained that to you.”

“I don’t think this is even a road,” Mikey said. “I think you’re driving on private property.”

“Driveways, even long ones, don’t have yellow dividing lines,” Don said. “This is a proper road and will eventually meet up with the highway at a point well past the crash site.”

“Then why isn’t it on any maps?” Mikey asked. “It doesn’t even show up on Google!”

“How would you know? The sign showing the name of this road was so faded I couldn’t read it, at least not in the dark,” Don said. “After we made the turn I did see a sign that said the highway was twenty miles west if we stayed on this road. That means we’ll actually come out ahead of the other cars. For your information, Google doesn’t show everyth . . . .”

Another hard jolt interrupted him, making Don’s teeth click together. “Sorry, Master Splinter,” Don said, glancing into the rearview mirror. “April’s van needs new shock absorbers.”

“It feels like we’ve already gone twenty miles,” Mikey said.

“It’s a nice night, Mikey. Why can’t you just enjoy the drive?” Don asked.

“I’m hungry, that’s why,” Mikey answered.

There was the sound of a paper bag crinkling and then Master Splinter said, “Here, Michelangelo, have an apple. I would like to enjoy the night sky, fresh air, and this chance to be out of the lair for a little while. If eating will quiet you, then by all means, eat.”

Mikey reached back to accept the apple with a murmured thanks. An apple wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he’d said he was hungry, but he could tell that Master Splinter didn’t want to hear any more of his complaints.

Donatello turned on the radio, tuning it to a music station to drown out the sound of Mikey’s crunching. That seemed to lighten the mood and Mikey settled back to enjoy his apple. When he was finished with it, he rolled down the window, took aim, and threw the core against a tree trunk.

“Nailed it at sixty miles an hour!” Mikey chortled.

“I hate to tell you this, but we aren’t going anywhere near sixty,” Don said. “The road is in bad shape and seems to be getting worse. My guess is it’s a county road and they haven’t budgeted anything for maintenance.”

“I wouldn’t either if only one car a year takes the road,” Mikey said. “They probably don’t even remember it’s here.”

After a moment, Don slowed a little more. “Somebody from the railway remembers it, at least part of it. There are train tracks up ahead and the portion of the road that crosses it is well maintained.”

Mikey leaned forward and saw what Don meant. The road up to this point had been dotted with various sized potholes and weeds pushing up through the asphalt. Near the tracks though the road looked almost freshly paved.

“We must be getting close to the highway,” Mikey said excitedly.

“Looks that way,” Don said, checking the odometer. According to it, they had traveled eighteen miles since he’d chosen this detour.

It was a double-track railway line which meant trains traveling in either direction did not share a track. There were no railroad crossing gates, but there were crossing signals with bells and lights on either side of the tracks. They weren’t signaling a train, but Don slowed to look both ways before crossing.

When the front wheels of the van touched the first set of rails, the radio began playing static. Don didn’t think much of it until the van was straddling the first and second rails because that’s when the engine died.

Don looked down at the control panel, completely surprised. Muttering something under his breath, he turned the key off and then tried starting the engine again, to no avail.

“What’s going on, Donny?” Mikey asked.

“I don’t know,” Don said. “I overhauled the engine myself, it’s in perfect working order.”

“Maybe you left a piece out,” Mikey said.

Don glowered at him. “I didn’t leave a piece out, Mikey. Engines don’t work that way.”

“Well, this one sure isn’t working,” Mikey shot back.

“It might be caused by the tracks themselves, though there isn’t a third electrified rail,” Don said. He tried the engine again, but it didn’t even sputter.

“Dead battery?” Mikey offered, trying to think of anything he knew about automobiles.

“It’s new; April bought it a month ago,” Don said. “This makes no sense.”

“Perhaps if you checked under the hood, the reason for the van’s refusal to move might be made clear,” Master Splinter said.

Don felt embarrassed that he hadn’t tried that already. “Of course, Sensei.”

Releasing his seatbelt, Don pulled on the door handle but the door didn’t open. Frowning, he looked at the lock knob, which was still all of the way down. Adding that to the list of things he needed to repair on April’s van, Don tried pulling the knob up, but it wouldn’t move.

“Uh, Donny,” Mikey said.

“Door’s not working,” Don said. “My tools are in the back anyway, I’ll just go out the back doors.”

“Donny!” Mikey shouted.

“What?” Don asked, looking at his brother.

Mikey’s eyes were wide as he pointed down the track. Bright lights could be seen in the distance and they were coming right at them.

At that moment the bells and lights on the crossing signals began to go off.

“We’re going to have to push!” Don exclaimed, putting the van into neutral. “Master Splinter, when we get out, climb into the driver’s seat. Once Mikey and I have the van off the tracks, hit the brakes so we can get back in. That’s all you have to do; hold the steering wheel straight and press on the brake pedal.”

“Go out my door, Donny,” Mikey said, reaching for the handle. When he tugged on it though, it wouldn’t open. “My door’s stuck too!”

Don stood up and reached past him, trying the lock knob and finding that it too refused to budge. “Out the back!”

Both turtles vacated the front of the van and moved towards the back, hopping over the second row of seats. Don kneeled on the third row seat and leaned over to open the back hatch, but the lever wouldn’t move.

He spent a second straining to push the lever down to no avail. The train’s horn blared out a warning, sounding incredibly close.

Seeing that they weren’t going out that way, Mikey turned to one of the windows and tried rolling it down. Though he was able to turn the window handle, the glass itself didn’t move.

“What the heck’s going on?” Mikey asked.

“The windows are all manual, there’s no reason for them not to go down,” Don said.

“Find the reason later, we’re about to be flattened!” Mikey yelled.

“Break the window!” Don shouted, covering his eyes as Mikey pulled one of his nunchakus.

Bringing it back, Mikey drove the ends at the glass with as much force as he could muster. His weapon bounced off the window without putting even a crack in it.

Don immediately jumped into the seats in front of them to give Mikey room enough to spin his weapon. Though the space was cramped, he was able to work up enough momentum to break the hardest of glass, but the nunchuck merely bounced back when it struck the window’s surface.

Yanking out his bo staff, Don tried ramming the end into the front window, but couldn’t break it either.

“We’re trapped!” Don exclaimed. “Get to the side farthest from the train and hang on!”

Don wrapped himself around his father, gripping the seatbelt for added stability. The train’s horn blasted again, a long shrill sound that made Mikey clap his hands over his ears. He glanced out to see the bright lights of the train filling the windows and then he put his head down and braced for impact.

The jolt, when it came, wasn’t from the side but from the back. Something shoved the van hard, throwing its occupants against the seats in front of them.

Another hard shove sent the van careening off of the tracks and into the shrubbery that was growing on the side of the road.

Behind them, the roar of the train as it flew past was incredibly loud. The turtles and their father sat up to look back, wanting to know what it was that had saved them.

Standing just on their side of the tracks was the glowing figure of a man, wearing a bright yellow jacket and a hard hat. He saluted them and then faded away.

As he winked out of sight, so did the train, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.

For a long while the family sat in the van without talking or moving. Finally Donatello climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the door handle, which opened easily.

“Where are you going?” Mikey asked when his brother put the van into park and hopped out of the vehicle.

Don started walking back towards the tracks and even though Mikey really didn’t want to follow him, he did anyway, as did Master Splinter.

They found Don staring at the road around the tracks. It no longer appeared well-kept; in fact, there wasn’t much in the way of a road along the route they had taken. There had clearly been a road of sorts in that location at some point in the past, but not now. Whatever pavement had once run up to the tracks was completely chipped away, probably by whoever maintained the rail line.

Gone also were the crossing signals.

“You don’t need signals in places not meant to cross,” Don murmured under his breath.

Mikey’s mouth, which had been hanging open, snapped together with an audible clack. “What just happened? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. What I want is to get out of here, like now, Donny.”

Making a mental note to return to the spot during the daytime, Don turned back to the van. Once all three were inside, Don tried the engine and it purred to life. Mikey turned the crank on this window and the glass went down with ease.

He looked over at Don. “This is staying down until we hit the highway.”

There was no argument from his brother, who steered the van back onto the road. Don drove a little faster than was prudent because the pavement was quickly disappearing.

Up ahead they could hear the sounds of traffic and after maneuvering around a bend in the road they saw the highway. Mikey sighed in relief as Don found an opening in the flow of traffic and got them back onto solid pavement.

Looking into his rear view mirror, Don saw that what had been their exit was now a solid line of trees with no hint of a road.

Mikey rolled up his window. “Promise me that we will never take that road again.”

Don glanced at him. “We couldn’t if we wanted to because it’s not there anymore.”

Turning in his seat, Mikey asked, “Master Splinter, what do you think just happened?”

“My son, there are many things in this world that we may never understand,” Master Splinter said. “I am convinced that some events from the past leave behind echoes, often due to their tragic nature.”

“Perhaps there was a deadly accident at that location,” Don said. “I can look it up when we get home.”

“It is possible that the scene replays itself anytime an automobile attempts to cross over those tracks,” Master Splinter said.

“Somebody must know about it then, right? Why else would a perfectly good detour road have been closed down?” Don asked.

“Duh, if you can’t get rid of the ghost, get rid of the road leading to the ghost,” Mikey said, as if that were the most obvious thing ever. “Not that it did any good ‘cause the road is a ghost too.”

There was a moment of quiet as they contemplated that fact, and then Don said, “I did learn one very valuable lesson from this adventure.”

“What is that, my son?” Master Splinter asked.

Don grinned. “Never travel far from home just because Mikey wants a comic book.”

“Hey!” Mikey yelped indignantly, drawing laughter from his father and brother.

Fin


End file.
